


Lily's Son

by throgmorten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Snape Adopts Harry, Some description of the Dursleys's abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throgmorten/pseuds/throgmorten
Summary: Severus doesn't think of Harry for months.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	Lily's Son

For months, Severus can barely get out of bed. He takes to doing everything with magic – a quick Scourgify instead of a wash, multiplying the food he has in his pantry until it tastes almost of dust. He puts everything he has of Lily into his Penseive, and spends hours with his head submerged.

He's furious when Albus shows up.

Severus doesn't want to talk to him, doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to be left alone.

He busies himself making the tea while Dumbledore inspects his kitchen. He knows it's in a state – dust on almost all the surfaces, all the doors and drawers pulled out where he couldn't even be bothered to close them. Severus knows he looks even worse, his hair grown out too long, his face gaunt from weight loss and sallow from lack of nutrition and sun. Luckily, he could not in this moment care less what Albus thinks of him.

He sits down with the tea and plate of crumbling shortbread.

“Milk?”

“I've come to offer you a job.”

“I don't want it, look what your last job got me.”

“That wasn't my fault – they were betrayed. They trusted the wrong person.”

Severus snorts. He knows what that feels like.

“Horace Slughorn is retiring. I want you for our new Potions professor and Head of Slytherin House.”

“You're joking right? A 21 year-old Death Eater babysitting a bunch of snot-nosed brats? The parents will riot, let alone the Governors”

“They will not. And besides, I'm the Headmaster, it's my decision, and you're already, despite your youthful age, one of the best Potion Masters in Britain.”

“I don't see what's in it for me.”

“Respect. Helping influence the next generation of Hogwarts students. Our support of your research into new spells and potions... and I need you there. Voldemort will come back one day, and I will need your help when he does.”

Severus sit there in silence for a long moment, grinding his teeth. He refuses to meet Albus' eyes, picking at the shortbread instead.

“I want to die Albus. I feel like there's a gaping wound, slowly swallowing me whole.”

“Oh my dear boy,” Severus has to shut his eyes against the tone in Dumbledore's voice, “She wouldn't want that for you. She would want you to keep fighting, to make the world a better place.”

“I don't know if I can.” His voice is down to a hoarse whisper, he's clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to regain control of himself.

:You can,” Dumbledore is firm, “I know you can Severus. Besides, she left a son – don't you want to do all you can to make the world better for him, and be there to protect him when the war starts again?”

Severus sighs. He is not going to enjoy this one bit

\---

Severus doesn't think of Harry for months. Hogwarts is a nightmare, Horace left everything in a dreadful state, his office and classroom a complete tip, and the curriculum haphazard and poorly designed at best. It's a miracle he can brew potions at all, Severus thinks, given who taught him. The potions students are awful – alternately neglected and fawned over. Slytherin is a mess, with half the students having left for Durmstrang, and the ones who are left traumatised, or bullied, or angry. He hates how much it feels like looking in a mirror some days. It's good though, to be busy, so busy he has hardly any time left alone with his thoughts, and he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow at night. It's helpful also, he begrudgingly admits, to have the House Elves feeding him and taking care of his rooms as well, and he even manages to start showering and brushing his teeth again instead of relying on Scourgify (which never makes you feel properly clean).

It occurs to him one day, as he's consoling poor little Araminta Hopkins, a scrawny second-year whose parents selfishly preferred death to being captured by Aurors. All she has left is a stern, dour grandmother, though Severus privately thinks she's rather lucky – Honoria Hopkins loves her granddaughter dearly, even if she has a hard time expressing it. Some students have no one at all – and then it hits him – who does Lily's son have? He knows her parents died in a rather suspicious car accident when Lily was in hiding, and James' were quite elderly, looking more like grandparents than parents whenever they picked him up from King's Cross.

He asks Dumbledore at dinner.

“Who is looking after Lily's son? Are Potter's parents still alive?”

Albus swivels to face him,“ You mean Harry? And no, they are not”

He knows the boy's name is Harry, or course, but he'd locked it away in that little bitter, devastated part of his heart that he preferred not to acknowledge.

“Yes, Harry. You didn't give him to Lupin did you?”

“No, he's under the care of his aunt”

“I wasn't aware Potter had a sister.”

“He didn't. It's Lily's sister, Petunia I believe her name is.”

Snape drops his cutlery in shock, “You can't be serious. Petunia took him in? And you let her? She hated no one as much as she hated Lily, I can't imagine it's any different for her highly magical son.”

“People grow up, they change Severus.”

Severus has a sinking, awful feeling in his stomach. People don't change that much.

\---

Severus waits until the weekend, and apparates to the nearest phone booth to look up Petunia Dursley (it took him a long time to remember the name of the oaf she had married). He casts a Disillusionment charm on himself and apparates again to their street. The house is in a nice middle class neighbourhood, completely bland and lifeless, but acceptable he decides - he wouldn't want Lily's son to grow up struggling like he did. He creeps into the back garden of the house next door. Just a glimpse, to make sure he's okay and Severus will leave. He casts a cushioning charm on the low wall in between the houses. Now, he just has to wait.

It doesn't take long for two tiny toddlers to make their way outside. A tiny little black haired boy trailing a chubby blonde one with a ball. He must be Harry – he looks like Potter but he moves exactly like Severus imagines Lily would've if she lacked perfect control of her limbs. Harry sits in the grass placidly while the blonde muggle kicks his ball against the wall than more force than Severus thought children that age usually possessed. What Harry does next makes Severus gasp – he's picked what looks like a daisy and is making the petals open and close in what Severus honestly thinks might be a late-onset grief hallucination. He apparates away as soon as he can even slightly gather himself, and counts himself lucky that the shallow cut on his forearm is a bad as the splinching got.

Severus doesn't leave his rooms for the rest of the weekend, asking the house elves to bring meals directly to him, and crossing his fingers Slytherin House avoids a crisis. He knew Lily had a son (as much as he tried to pretend to himself that she didn't), remembers him even, vaguely, crying in the cot when Severus found Lily's body. But that wasn't the same as actually properly seeing him, this boy that looks so much like Potter but acts so much like Lily. He doesn't know how he's supposed to go on and live his life normally with this knowledge, that there's a tiny little boy-Lily out there, not just related to but under the the power of Petunia Evans. Merlin, he hopes Albus is right about people changing.

He goes back the next Saturday. The entire week was spent in a daze, and what he saw last weekend feels like dream more than anything. He brought supplies this time, a packed lunch from the House Elves and some marking he has to do. He's not trying to be creepy, he just wants to make sure Harry is alright, and then he'll move on with his life.

Harry is not alright. It takes about an hour for the boys to come outside. Harry has a tiny car he's pushing slowly across the patio and the walls of the garden. The other boy is running around with a ball again. He kicks it at the wall and it promptly rebounds and hits him on the head. The blonde bursts into tears, going red alarmingly quickly with the force of his crying. Two adults quickly exit the house – a heavyset man, and an insipid, wan woman Severus immediately knows is Petunia Evans. The man picks the boy up, cradling him gently and making soothing noises. Petunia however, marches over to Harry, yanking him up roughly by the arm.

“You stupid, wicked boy.” She screeches, as she forcefully slaps him across the face. Before Severus can even process what just happened, Petunia has dragged Harry inside, across the rough concrete, and slammed the door.

Severus could not even describe what he is feeling, the rage making his thoughts almost incoherent. He just sits there, gaping at where Harry had been. He takes deep breaths for several minutes, trying to calm himself down. It wouldn't do to splinch himself before he can rescue Harry and exact revenge.

\---

He storms into Dumbledore's office.

“Petunia Evans hasn't grown up, she hasn't changed.” He spits out.

“What?” Dumbledore is reading his mail and sucking on a sweet.

“Harry's aunt. She hit him. Hard. He didn't even cry,” It hasn't struck Severus till this moment how deeply unnerving that was, the lack of tears from a child who should be able to cry at the drop of the hat, “Do you have a Penseive?”

Dumbledore sighs and turns to rummage through his cabinets. Severus is on edge, agitated, he can barely stand till. He retrieves the memory with his wand and places it in the Penseive. Dumbledore just looks at him, eyebrows raised.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” He barks. Dumbledore sighs and submerges his head in the fumes.

Severus feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin waiting for Dumbledore to come back from watching his memory. He wishes he could break something.

He's so preoccupied with these thoughts of violence, trying to decide if there's something he could conjure to discretely crush, or snap, that he doesn't notice that Dumbledore is back, just staring at him with that offputting blank gaze of his.

After a moment Dumbledore says, “You went to spy on him?”

Severus did not think he could be more mad, “Not spying. I was checking on him, to make sure he's okay. And he's not!” he hisses.

“Yes,” Dumbledore frowns, “I can see that. The situation is less than ideal.”

“Less than ideal?” Severus is yelling now. He hates yelling, hates losing control of his emotions. “She hit him! Lily's son, and she hit him! He's not safe there!”

Dumbledore looks off into space, still frowning. The only sound in the room for a long moment are Severus' harsh breaths. “ I will visit them, and let them know what our standards of care are “ Dumbledore says, almost to himself, “ After all, they are Muggles, they might not know what we expect.”

Severus is dumbfounded. He is aghast, shocked, bewildered. “This has nothing to do with them being Muggles Albus! Petunia Evans was a nasty little girl, who clearly grew up into a nasty woman. You cannot leave Harry there!”

Dumbledore turns his gaze back on him. The tone of his voice changes, sterner, stricter, like Severus is his student, not a Professor. “They are his family Severus. That is where he will be safest. Now, leave this with me, Harry is not your concern. Concentrate on your students, I will make sure Harry Potter is okay.”

Severus cannot believe what he is hearing. He storms out of the room, marching back to his quarters at a furious speed. He considers his desk, raises the inkwell from it with a flick of his wand, and then shoves everything else to the floor with a scream. He wishes punching the stone castle walls would result in anything other than a broken hand. And then, he sits on his chair, retrieving some parchment from the floor and his inkwell from the air, and starts a letter to Lucius Malfoy.

\---

Severus is a wreck. He goes to the library, looks up the punishment in Azkaban for kidnapping, or for the murder of Muggles. He considers contacting the Daily Prophet. He writes a list of people who would care about Harry, who might take him in. It has one name on it, Remus Lupin. He snorts – things are bad when a child would be better off being taken care of by a werewolf than their own family. He skips dinner again, taking it in his rooms, knowing he could barely make eye contact with Albus right now, let alone make polite conversation. The owl he receives the next morning helps, marginally. _I will take care of it – L._ Severus shudders to think the sort of favours Lucius will want in exchange for this, especially considering the low ebb his political capital is at. He is agitated, alternately distracted in his classes, and then snapping at students who deserve it far less than they usually do. And then finally, on Wednesday, he receives an owl, requesting his presence at a Welfare Hearing at the Ministry, for one Harry Potter. His reply is immediate in the affirmative, promising both a statement and Penseive memory if required, and then he sinks back into his chair, feeling the tightness in his chest slightly ease.

They have the hearing on Friday afternoon. Severus takes the whole day off from classes, knowing he would be useless, not even caring who Albus schedules to replace him. He spends the morning mostly pacing in his room, arrives at the Ministry almost an hour early, thinking the activity there could at least distract him. Fifteen minutes before the hearing, Lucius shows up, and Severus relaxes a infinitesimal amount. He has backup, he has someone on his side.

“Lucius” He nods

“Severus, I hope you have been well.”

“I have, how is Draco? And Narcissa?”

“They are both fine. Narcissa asked me to tell you to come visit soon. We know you are busy, but Draco would like to see his godfather.”

He gives a small smile that is more like a grimace,“I would like that.” After the hearing is over, and he has space in his brain to think of anyone else.

The hearing is worse than Severus thought, and he thought it would be pretty bad. Severus gives his statement first, about being Lily's childhood friend, and worrying about the fitness of her sister to raise her child, and shares his memory of that day. Though he had to dig his nails into his thigh to get through telling these strangers about Lily, it turns out that was the easiest bit by far,. Hearing the statements of the inspectors that the ministry sent, and then seeing the memories - of the cot shoved inside a tiny dingy closet, with exposed nails and cobwebs and only one threadbare blanket on a dirty mattress with no sheets; the interview conducted with the Dursleys where they expressed the opinion that Harry was evil and wicked, and that physical discipline was the only way to cure him; of the medical examination, showing an abnormal level of bruising, and a toddler suffering from malnutrition,vastly underweight for his age, his ribs poking through. Severus wanted to vomit. He thought back to when he was lying in bed feeling sorry for himself, while Lily's son went through all of that, and can barely breathe through the self loathing. He suddenly realises he has been lost in his thoughts for too long when the Wizengamot judge bangs his gavel and states,

“Custody awarded to Severus Snape.”


End file.
